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Ma Junhou had been working at the shipyard since he was eighteen, clocking in twenty years of service. Shipbuilding was heavy industry, and the workers, under the strain of intense physical labor, desperately needed ways to relieve their fatigue and stress. Drinking was the best solution, and a proper night out required at least two or three rounds. Going ho after just one round didn’t count as being a real man.
The first round had been at a luxurious banquet hall, but Ma Junhou had felt too restrained. The food was high-end, but it didn’t suit his taste. The Australian lobster sashimi was bland compared to the spicy kick of Da Hong Pao (a type of chili pepper dish). The aroma of Moutai and the taste of Remy Martin XO didn’t sit well with him, and the thought of each sip costing dozens of yuan made him uneasy.
So, Ma Junhou took charge and chose Yu i Restaurant for the second round. He was a regular here. The last ti Yin Bingsong had harassed Wu Yui, it was Ma Junhou who had stood up and slamd the table in anger. Although he had quickly backed down afterward, it didn’t diminish his heroic image.
Even though the sign outside the restaurant now read "Huang Pihu," Ma Junhou still called it Yu i Restaurant, as if it were a privilege reserved for loyal custors. In Zhuang Longbao’s Rolls-Royce, Ma Junhou had felt a bit out of place, but as soon as he stepped into Yu i Restaurant and sat on the iron-legged stool, his spirit returned. It was like a player returning to his ho court—this was his territory, his throne, his kingdom.
When Wu Yui saw Ma Junhou bringing in a new face, she quickly greeted him with a warm "Brother Ma this, Brother Ma that." "Brother Ma, the usual?" she asked.
"One Da Hong Pao, one side dish for drinking, and bring a case of beer to start," Ma Junhou said, pulling out half a bottle of Moutai from his bag to show off. "Tonight, we’re mainly drinking this."
"Brother Ma, you’ve really made it big, drinking Moutai now," Wu Yui said. "Just the two of you?"
Ma Junhou replied, "I’ll call a couple more people to liven things up." Without consulting Zhuang Longbao, he took out his phone and called a few friends. So were working overti, while others said they had already eaten and were lying at ho, unwilling to co out.
Brother Ma felt a bit awkward. Based on his earlier boasting, he should have been able to summon a crowd with a single call.
"Just the two of us is fine, more peaceful," Zhuang Longbao said considerately.
So it was just the two of them. The side dishes arrived first, and sitting by the warm radiator, eating braised pig intestines and crispy cucumber, taking a puff of a cigarette, and sipping Moutai—this was the life. Not even a workshop manager’s position could compare to this comfort.
Through the haze of Chunghwa cigarettes, Ma Junhou’s mouth moved, but Zhuang Longbao didn’t hear a single word. He was entranced by the scene before him. Years later, when Zhuang Longbao, the "Little Gambling King of Macau," stood in his prison cell reflecting on his life, the mont that brought him the most satisfaction and happiness wasn’t the frenzied nights in the casino winning hundreds of millions, but this quiet evening in a small hotown tavern, sharing drinks and mories with an old friend.
"To return ho in glory is like wearing fine clothes at night," Zhuang Longbao said.
Ma Junhou, emboldened by the alcohol, asked, "Old classmate, tell the truth. How much are you worth now?"
Zhuang Longbao, also quite drunk, pretended to think for a mont and said, "In our line of work, it’s all about luck. When luck cos, even gods and ghosts can’t stop you. My record is this much in one night." He held up two fingers.
"Twenty thousand? That’s insane. One night equals a year of my salary. A year of that would be 365 years of my life. What’s the point of living? It’s aningless," Ma Junhou said, clicking his tongue.
Zhuang Longbao shook his two fingers, indicating that 20,000 was an insult to him.
"Two hundred thousand? That’s six million a month. No wonder you can afford a Rolls-Royce," Ma Junhou said, already numb. Once money reached the ten-thousand unit, it had nothing to do with him anymore.
Zhuang Longbao’s fingers were still waving.
"Two million?" Ma Junhou played along with the surprise, but he was starting to tire.
"One more guess, and you’ll get it right," Zhuang Longbao said. "Of course, it’s not like this every day. It’s a variable, in and out. But it’s definitely better than staying at the factory. Otherwise, I might not have survived until now."
Ma Junhou said, "Yeah, lucky you left early. If you’d stayed at the factory, you’d be like , a worker earning two thousand a month, sotis with delayed pay. I’ve had enough. Old classmate, let work with you. I’ll be your driver. I don’t need much, just ten thousand a month."
Zhuang Longbao, as if answering Ma Junhou or perhaps just talking to himself, said, "You think it’s easy? The barrier to entry in this industry is low, just like writing web novels. If you can read, you can do it. But doing it well is incredibly hard. Do you know what kept going all these years? I rember that year when there was an accident at the factory. My dad died, and my mom took to the workshop director’s house with a gift. It was Chinese New Year, and we didn’t even have food for the next day. We spent our last bit of money on a gift box with a Jinhua ham, begging the director to let take my dad’s place as an apprentice in the welding workshop."
Ma Junhou chid in, "I rember. I took over my dad’s job at the factory too. Those were the years of the layoff wave. Every family was struggling to put food on the table."
Zhuang Longbao continued, "My mom bought a discounted ham because it was cheap. The packaging was leaking air. The director’s wife didn’t say anything to our faces, but as soon as we left, she threw the gift box out. My mom and I quietly picked it up and took it ho. That ham got us through the New Year. We ate it for two months. That’s when I made a silent vow. Guess what it was?"
Ma Junhou said, "You swore you’d never eat that stuff again."
Zhuang Longbao said, "No, I swore I’d work hard to make money so I could eat ham every day. Within a few years, my dream ca true."
Ma Junhou said, "I rember you left with your mom after middle school to go back to your hotown. Did you inherit so property?"
Zhuang Longbao said, "Not long after my mom took back to Guangdong, she sent to Hong Kong through a relative to learn Western cooking. I worked in a restaurant, specializing in slicing ham for custors. It was Spanish ham, called Jamón Ibérico. One ham cost five thousand dollars. Every day, I ate the scraps from slicing, and I got sick of it."
Ma Junhou burst out laughing, "So you and Old Huang are both chefs."
Zhuang Longbao smiled faintly and made a call, asking his driver to bring a ham from the car’s fridge. He demonstrated how to slice it on the spot, cutting paper-thin slices that lted in the mouth with a rich, savory flavor.
"This is the hind leg, called Jamón. The front leg is called Paleta. It’s not as heavy as the hind leg, and the curing ti is shorter. This Jamón is black label, purebred Iberian black pig, cured for no less than three years…"
Ma Junhou, eating the raw ham, was puzzled. "You can make this much money just by slicing ham?"
Zhuang Longbao said, "I did well, and I was honest and hardworking, so I was poached to work at the Grand Lisboa Hotel…"
At that mont, Yi Leng ca up with a plate of bright red Da Hong Pao. Seeing them slicing ham, he smiled and said, "Sorry for the poor service. You’ve already brought your own dishes."
Ma Junhou introduced him, "Old Huang, this is my classmate. He just ca back from Hong Kong, where he’s doing big business. Look, his car is parked over there."
The Rolls-Royce was parked by the roadside, with the driver dutifully sitting inside.
"Be careful not to get pulled over by the traffic police," Yi Leng said.
"The traffic police wouldn’t dare," Ma Junhou said. "This is a Rolls-Royce. There’s not a single one in all of Jiangwei."
Yi Leng smiled. There weren’t many custors today, so he was willing to sit with them for a while. For the custors, this was a VIP-level treatnt. After a few words, he figured out the relationship between Ma Junhou and Zhuang Longbao and guessed Zhuang Longbao’s profession. He saw through it but didn’t say anything. After sharing a drink with them, he went back to the kitchen.
Wu Yui ca over and asked, "What does that guy do?"
Yi Leng said, "He’s a chip stacker."
"What does that an?" Wu Yui didn’t understand.
"He’s the lubricant, the catalyst between the casino and the gamblers," Yi Leng explained succinctly. Wu Yui understood imdiately: "So, a middleman."
Yi Leng lifted the curtain slightly and glanced at the honest-looking Zhuang Longbao, confirming that he wasn’t here for him.
Since taking in Du Li and her daughter, Ma Junhou had started drinking more moderately. He no longer stayed out until 1 a.m., because he knew that when the guests left, the waitstaff could go ho. So he wrapped things up early, but not before making a grand gesture.
Ma Junhou brought out a large orange-red box from the car and placed it in front of Du Li, saying without batting an eye, "I won this in a raffle. A won’s bag—I can’t use it. It’s yours."
Du Li was startled. She didn’t recognize the Hermès logo, but the packaging alone scread luxury. She didn’t dare accept it.
"It’s not that expensive, just a few hundred yuan. I can afford to give it away," Ma Junhou said, emboldened by the alcohol. "If you don’t take it, I’ll get mad."
Du Li reluctantly accepted it.
Wu Yui, playing the role of matchmaker, said, "Du Li, you can clock out early. Keep an eye on Brother Ma. He’s had a bit too much."
Ma Junhou, eager to show off the prestige of the Rolls-Royce, personally opened the car door for Du Li to get in.
Zhuang Longbao played along, smiling and staying quiet, not stealing the spotlight.
The Rolls-Royce drove leisurely through the night streets. With the New Year approaching, the traffic police were out in full force, setting up checkpoints. All vehicles were treated equally, but the Rolls-Royce had nothing to fear. The driver hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol.
Still, they were pulled over. The police asked for the driver’s license and registration, then inford them that they were in serious violation and the car would be impounded.
Zhuang Longbao remained calm, but Ma Junhou lost his temper, demanding to know why the car was being seized.
The officer explained that the car had a Guangdong-Macau dual license, which wasn’t valid outside Guangdong Province. Leaving the province made it an unlicensed vehicle, and by law, it had to be impounded.
"It’s fine. We’re law-abiding citizens. We should cooperate," Zhuang Longbao said, stepping out of the car and even thanking the officer for his hard work. He showed no intention of imdiately calling in favors.
The officer, seeing Zhuang Longbao’s well-dressed and polite deanor, was also courteous. He gave them an address and told them to co to the district traffic police station the next day to resolve the issue.
The driver made a call, and within monts, an Audi A6 pulled up. Zhuang Longbao even rembered to move a case of Moutai from the Rolls-Royce’s trunk to the Audi. He dropped Ma Junhou off at his ho in the shipyard’s residential area, helped him carry the Moutai upstairs, and left him the partially eaten Iberian ham.
Zhuang Longbao was surprised by the layout of Ma Junhou’s ho. The walls were covered in awards, but he hadn’t heard that Ma Junhou had any children. He gave Ma Junhou a questioning look, and Ma Junhou explained honestly, "These belong to my tenant."
Zhuang Longbao sighed. His old classmate was living a tough life. "Why don’t you co to the hotel with for another drink?" he suggested.
At the ntion of drinking, Ma Junhou perked up. Du Li wasn’t his wife, so she couldn’t stop him. She just advised him to drink less.
Ma Junhou followed Zhuang Longbao to the hotel, where Zhuang Longbao booked him a suite. Ma Junhou had never seen such a luxurious ocean-view room. Looking out at the dark sea and the city lights, his drunken excitent faded.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Thinking it was Zhuang Longbao, he opened the door to find a beautiful woman in a cheongsam holding a small suitcase. She smiled and said, "I’m a masseuse from the wellness center. Mr. Zhuang has booked a session for you."
"This guy really knows how to treat a friend… Co on in, miss," Ma Junhou said.
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